


Jogging and waffle irons

by seren_ccd



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seren_ccd/pseuds/seren_ccd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A discussion of jogging and modern fashion. And it's not even 9am. This is Abbie's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jogging and waffle irons

**Author's Note:**

> After several months of not writing, this is what my brain comes up with. Unabashedly domestic and fluffy.

Abbie finished her usual morning run in the same way: she jogged all the way to the house on the corner of her street, slowed to a trot, and did her best to cool down as she approached her house. She walked the last few yards to her house and let herself appreciate the heavy drum of her pulse in her body, while she rolled her shoulders and slowed down her breathing. As the front porch of her small duplex came into view, so did a familiar tall form complete with a familiar long coat. Abbie sighed and continued to stretch her arms as she walked.

“Morning, professor,” she called to Crane, who was peering in her front window. “What is it this time? Please don’t say the ghost of Paul Revere is back and shouting down Main Street.”

“Hardly,” he said straightening and turning. “Besides I never met the man - what in heaven’s name has happened to you?”

Abbie frowned as he raced down the stoop and frantically looked her over. “Uh, nothing? Just out for a run,” she said. She looked down at her maroon sports bra and jogging shorts checking to see if there was a rip that she’d missed when putting them on. “I mean, the Parker’s dog chased me down part of Kennedy Street, but that’s not unusual.”

“But you’re barely clothed,” he said reaching out a hand and then pulling it back quickly when she eyed it sharply. “And you’re drenched in sweat.”

“Helpful hint,” she said cheerfully, “I’m pretty sure that no matter the century, women don’t like to be told they look all sweaty.”

“But…where are your clothes? Why were you running? Were you attacked?” His voice deepened and his eyes continued to move over her, clearly looking for wounds.

“Ah, gotcha.” Abbie breathed in and out, then said, “I go for a run most mornings. It’s a form of exercise. I’ve done it since I was 13. As for my clothes, these are what most people wear while jogging. It keeps you cool and allows freedom of movement.”

Crane furrowed his brow and nodded. “I…see.” 

Abbie sighed again. Crane saying ‘I see’ usually meant that he did not, in fact, see.

“Surely people exercised where you come from?” she asked.

“I found that raging battles usually sufficed in exciting one’s blood and quickening the breath,” he said. “However, I did participate in various sports when I was a youth, so I do believe I take your meaning about the running.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.

“I have no problem,” he countered.

“Your forehead’s all scrunchy and it gets that way when you’ve got a problem,” she told him.

He blinked and rubbed his brow, but repeated, “I have no problem.”

“Right.” Abbie walked around him and bent down to grab her newspaper and when she straightened she noticed Crane averting his eyes and distinctly not looking at her. “Yeah, okay, what was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, still not looking at her.

“The whole not looking at me thing,” she said. “What’s with that?”

He lifted his chin and said, “I simply do not understand how you can function wearing so little.”

“Un huh,” she said putting her hands on her hips. “I see. My lack of clothing is bothering you.”

He darted a look at her and nodded.

“Okay.” She rolled her shoulders and thought about how to explain the history of fashion, but decided that would take too long, so she just went with, “Crane, I’m not bothered with how I’m dressed. What’s more, I’m not ashamed of it either. Which means you don’t have to be ashamed of it _for_ me.”

Crane turned to face her completely and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“We good?” Abbie asked.

“Yes, lieutenant,” he said. “We are…good.” He gave her a small smile, still keeping his eyes firmly on her face.

“Great.” Abbie shook her head walked up her stoop to her front door thinking _Well, that’s one example of female empowerment down. Several thousand more to go._

“Why do you do it though?” he asked. “Run every morning, I mean.”

Abbie shrugged as she opened her front door and said, “To stay in shape, clear my head. It’s one sport I’ve always been consistently good at, so I kept at it. You’d probably be pretty good at it, too.”

“I would?” he asked.

“You’ve got the build for it. And it does look like we’ll be doing a heck of a lot of it anyway, so you may as well get better at it,” she said.

“I do suspect it will be most needed in the coming months,” he said. He met her eyes again. “Very well. I shall run, then.”

“All righty, then,” Abbie said grinning. “We’ll need to get you some running shoes and clothes. You’ll have to lose the coat, I’m afraid.”

“I expect I shall survive without it,” he said, removing said coat and hanging it up on the coat rack in the hall, next to her Sheriff’s jacket.

“We’ll start you off slow, though and not overdo it,” Abbie said as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the drying rack and filled it with water from the faucet. “It’ll be nice to have-“

She broke off and took a long drink of water.

She felt him watching her.

“It will be nice to have…what, lieutenant?” he asked quietly.

Abbie finished the entire glass of water and set it down gently on the counter. She took a deep breath and said, “It’ll be nice to have the company.” She stared down at the glass. “My sister and I used to run together. Then, well, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “In that case, I would be most honored to accompany you on your morning exercise regimen. I believe it will be of great use to both of us.”

Abbie laughed as she turned to face him and said, “You do have a way with words, professor. And yeah, I think it’ll be good for us, too.”

He smiled fully at her.

“Now, what brought you here in the first place?” she asked.

The smile dropped from his face and he said, “Katrina visited me again in my dreams last night. This time to warn me of a creature that when the stars fade from the sky--“

“Wait. Hold up,” Abbie said raising her hand. “This sounds like a conversation that will require three things before I can process it. A shower, more coffee, and breakfast. So, I’m gonna take a shower and get dressed and you’re going to make me coffee.”

Crane’s eyes brightened. “May I employ the use of your waffle iron?”

Abbie snorted. His fascination with her kitchen appliances was both bizarre and, most of the time, tasty.

“Knock yourself out,” she said waving a hand at the kitchen.

“Why would I wish to do that? Surely I shall be needing my wits about me?” he asked frowning.

She was halfway through rolling her eyes when she noticed the smug look on his face. Abbie thwacked him on his arm with her hand. “Cute. Get in there and make some waffles, professor.”

He inclined his head. “I am yours to command, lieutenant.”

Crane disappeared into the kitchen and Abbie laughed all the way to her bathroom.


End file.
